


Courage to Love an Angel

by EverTheDreamer



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-10
Updated: 2006-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverTheDreamer/pseuds/EverTheDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p><i>Ugh,</i> I sighed inwardly. <i>What am I going to do about Hermione? I mean, I really like her! But how can I compete with Fleur? Fleur is smart and has so much going for her. I'm a year younger and can't really give my beautiful angel anything. How can I keep fighting Fleur? I mean, don't I just want Hermione to be happy?</i></p></blockquote>





	1. Library

I wasn't in love with Harry.

Sure, he was a nice guy, and I love him. But, I'm not _in_ love with him. It took me a while to realize I never was.

I was in love with the knight in shining armor ideal that he provided. I wanted the fairy tale.

That's why it was so easy to accept it when we broke up. It was always easy to break up with the boys I dated.

I didn't care.

But… It's all so much different with her.

She's… Perfect. She doesn't think so, but that's only because she is busy thinking about everyone one and everything else. She's the "brightest witch of our age" and she's beautiful. She's caring, yet she sticks up for her beliefs. Her S.P.E.W. campaign is so cute!

I can remember summers with her as far back as after my first year. I remember going to her for homework help and "boy trouble."

I know it's silly, but I can remember being only twelve and lying awake and watching her peaceful sleep. Listening to her rhythmic breathing…

She never treated me as "just Ron's baby sister." She always treated me as an equal.

Always.

I'm in my sixth year and she's in her seventh. Still, I watch her. Praying someday I'll see her watching back.

I'm in love with this girl.

I want to shout it from the highest tower:

"I'm in love with Hermione Jane Granger!"

Knowing this made me realize I had to tell my family.

I officially "came out of the closet" the summer after Harry and I broke up.

For a while, Ron was angry. He blamed Harry/

Dad was too frazzled with the Ministry and the Order to do anything. Mom just nodded and told me she loved me anyway.

"There are far worse things you could be. So you're a lesbian? You're not dating Malfoy's son. I don't care. You're my baby, my _last_ baby. I don't care if you like girls," she told me. Then she hugged me. I openly cried.

The twins didn't care. Neither did Charlie. Bill seemed almost worried. I can't even imagine why.

Percy doesn't know. He's dead to me. He returned the sweater mum made him and he sided against the entire family. He's dead to me. So, I don't care what he thinks. He doesn't get to know.

I've told Harry and Hermione and Luna.

Harry was hocked. He didn't understand how I could just do a full 180. He thought it was my way of getting over him. What a spotlight hog that boy is!

Luna just smiled airily and asked about spordifs and kerdingles.

Hermione…. Hermione had seemed glad to hear that I was a lesbian.

That alone gave me hope.

Back at school, I'm called a "raging bull-dyke" just because I'm not as feminine as other girls. Just because I spend every waking hour playing quidditch…

What else can a girl do to work off built-up sexual-frustration?

Sitting in the library, I can see her. Hermione, my beautiful princess, was sitting in the back of the library. She was seated by the windows and the sunlight streaming in made her look like an angel.

I took a deep breath and began to walk over to her.

"Sorry," I mumble as I bump into someone.

My heart stopped and I turned to see who I had bumped, knowing even before I turned.

"Phlegm," I said, seething.

"Such impudence! Ginny, you should really be more respectful. I am your professor!"

"You're a skank. A horny skank, Phlegm. I see the way you' ve been looking at Hermione since Bill got bitten by Fenir! You disgust me!"

"It's Professor Delacour, 'baby zister.' And I rezent zat! I 'have not been looking at 'Ermione! And a word of advice, 'zister, darzing': be nicer to me or you will find yourself in detention all year. With Filch."

I scowled and furiously turned on my heel.

Stupid French whore! She will not keep me from my angel!


	2. Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ugh,_ I sighed inwardly. _What am I going to do about Hermione? I mean, I really like her! But how can I compete with Fleur? Fleur is smart and has so much going for her. I'm a year younger and can't really give my beautiful angel anything. How can I keep fighting Fleur? I mean, don't I just want Hermione to be happy?_

  


_Ugh,_ I sighed inwardly. _What am I going to do about Hermione? I mean, I really like her! But how can I compete with Fleur? Fleur is smart and has so much going for her. I'm a year younger and can't really give my beautiful angel anything. How can I keep fighting Fleur? I mean, don't I just want Hermione to be happy?_

I saw Hermione leave that evil French whore's room and any thoughts of not fighting for her left. Hermione looked so upset! What vicious lies had she sprouted? With what did she taint my angel? And Sweet Merlin! At first, she just looked confused, then upset, then sick. Then she just walked into the lavatory.

I was so concerned for her! I mean, I know she's not frail… But I was concerned! I broke, okay? I followed her into the bathroom. Just to make sure she was okay!

My beautiful angel appeared so deeply lost in thought! I'm not sure she even noticed when I entered. I didn't want to startle her, so I tapped her on the shoulder. She looked so shocked! I hope I didn't surprise her too much.

"Hermione, are you all right? You're as white as a sheet lying on the snow!" I exclaimed. She clearly was not okay and it just made me wonder again what that evil bitch had said or done to upset her so. I think I was understandably concerned.

"N-n-n- no." Hermione stuttered.

My heart lurched. If Phlegm had hurt her, I would make her pay. I felt my eyes go wide and Hermione must have noticed because she quickly composed herself.

"Everything's fine, Ginny," Hermione said in a calmer tone. "It's just that time of the month and I didn't have time to eat lunch. I was just feeling a little faint and needed to wake up a bit. It's almost dinnertime though, so I'll get something to eat now."

"Well, at least let me escort you to the hospital wing!" I said. She shook her head and walked past me. I'm not proud of it, I begged. I did. "Please, Hermione! If you're not feeling well, please at least let Madam Pomfrey examine you! Just make sure you're okay!" She continued to walk away. I sighed and followed after her.

Hermione was visibly trembling, which really only succeeded in making me worry more. She did, however, make it to the table without falling or anything else drastic. I sat down near her but not next to her. She seemed a little spooked. _Maybe she just needs time._

I kept my eye on her, throughout dinner, though. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Unfortunately, I also noticed Phlegm watching her. As if that French bitch didn't cause enough trouble! I had half a mind to go up to the staff table and use my famous Bat-Bogey hex on her right now!

I sighed as I realized the team was all going outside to practice. I hoped that Hemione would follow us out. If there's anywhere I feel comfortable enough to strut my stuff and really try to wow her, it was on the quidditch field. Sadly, Hermione seemed to be heading back to the common room, meaning away from practice, meaning away from me.

 _Bloody hell!_ I thought, bitterly. _That damn French whore can call her to her office whenever she pleases, but I can't even get Hermione to come watch a practice!_

I was less than "in the zone" at practice. All I could think of was Hermione and whether or not she was okay. I mean, "that time of the month" or no, she seemed off and it honestly worried me. Honestly, I think that her absence of personality has much more to do with something else. I mean, if she _says_ she's on her cycle, who am I to call her bluff? But I've known her for so long and she doesn't get in these moods once a month so that's not all it is. I only pray that she will confide in me… Eventually.

  



	3. Outbursts and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _What does she see in her?_ I asked myself as I sat idly in Transfiguration, watching Phlegm attempting to teach us.

_What does she see in her?_ I asked myself as I sat idly in Transfiguration, watching Phlegm attempting to teach us.

 _What can my gorgeous, bushy-haired goddess, my angel, possibly see in her?_

"Ginerva."

The use of my given name forced me from my musings and I barely suppressed a flinch as I came back to reality, to Phlegm.

"Can you tell uz? Vat iz ze anzer?"

" _Wh_ at? I'm sorry, _wh_ at are you asking, _Professor_?" I asked, my words dripping with false sincerity.

"Ginerva-"

"Ginny," I interrupted through gritted teeth the impending tirade, which undoubtedly stemmed from my being competition, to correct her.

"Ginerva," she repeated with finality, "vat iz ze anzer?"

"Bloody hell! You've been in this country long enough Speak English properly! And enough with your phony accent! There's no one hear to impress! _I_ hate you, as does the rest of the class, I'm sure, and, besides that, you're married! Surely you remember you husband, my brother: Bill Weasley. You know, the man you promised to stand beside after he was bit my Fenir? Maybe 'promise' is the wrong word to use. How about 'vowed'? Remember now? In any case, all the accents in the world won't help you get in Hermione's pants. Besides, your accent is wasted. Look around: She's not here!"

Fleur looked shocked and I realized that everything I had been itching to say had finally let itself out. Strangely enough, though, the usual intensely horrible humiliation that normally accompanies outbursts in class such as these was absent. Instead, I felt a strange satisfaction. Pride, perhaps?

Despite knowing that a detention undoubtedly ensued, I smiled. I didn't care. Though, I knew Mum would. And Bill would.

And Hermione would.

Phlegm's eyes narrowed. "Detention, Ginerva."

I smiled nonchalantly, seeing that my lack of remorse seemed to anger her more.

She glowered in what I can only assume was supposed to be a menacingly intimidating manner. "And go see ze Headmistress."

I stood, my smirk still plastered to my face, and packed up my books. "What is the password to enter her office?" I asked, stopping in front of her. "Or were you planning to escort me there yourself, _Professor_?"

Fleur scowled. "Tartan Quaffle," she answered in a tone that was just barely a shy away from being a growl.

"thank you. Or, rather, _merci_ ," I said, as I turned on my heel and left the class, still smirking. I could hear the "oooh!"s of my classmates and my smile widened on my face. More so when I heard Fleur announce "Class dismissed," in defeat after loosing control.

 _Yes, this was most definitely pride,_ I thought, coming to a halt in front of the large gargoyle.

"Tartan Quaffle," I said, activating the revolving staircase and jumping aboard the step closest to the bottom.

I reached the top and raised my hand to knock.

 _Bugger,_ I thought. _McGonagall is going to give me such hell._

I took a deep breath and knocked anyway. After all, Gryffindors are famous for their courage in the face of danger.

And McGonagall is most definitely a face of danger.

"Enter."

I did so and made my way to the chair opposite hers.

"Sit." I did. "Miss Weasley, what did you do? I know she is your sister-in-law-" I shuddered at this statement. "-so there is bound to be animosity, but-"

"she called me Ginerva," I said, cutting her off.

McGonagall's eyes widened in shock, but she quickly regained her composure. It was a well-known fact to anyone who know my family that calling me by this name was a big no-no. It was equivalent to a muggle-born walking into You-Know-Who's inner sanctum and asking to join the Death Eaters. Or convert him to a muggle-loving way of life. Certain death.

"Still," she said, "that's no excuse for such blatant disrespect. Give me one reason- one good reason- I shouldn't make you serve this and many more detentions with her."

"She's planning to leave Bill," I told her. This _was_ technically the truth, though it was hardly the reason for my disrespecting her.

"No!" McGonagall said, scandalized. She leaned forward, thoroughly intrigued.

I realized that I could use this to my advantage to escape this and all future detentions with Phlegm.

By growing up with six brothers, I had learned that I could pretty much get anything I wanted, place the blame anywhere, if I just scrunched up my face and cried a little.

"Yes," I nodded sorrowfully and sniffed as I let fake tears pool at my eyes. "That's why she's doing this to me! She knows I know!"

"You poor dear!"

"She doesn't want me to forewarn him so she's trying to sully my name with detentions and such so that Mum and Dad and Bill won't believe me. She wants to wait until Bill gets his raise to get the divorce so that she is entitled to more, "I sobbed through fake tears.

"That's horrible! And you're caught in the middle! Well, you can just run along back to the common room, Miss Weasley. I'll make sure you don't have to serve any detentions because of her."

"Thank you so much, Headmistress McGonagall! You have no idea what this means to me!" I exclaimed, beaming, as I stood up.

She nodded and I nodded in return before turning around and exiting her office.

I felt a twinge of guilt and regret in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't actually thought that McGonagall, of all people, would fall for my little ploy and now I felt terribly guilty for playing on her love and closeness to my family.

All thoughts of guilt dissipated as I saw Hermione walking ahead of me in the halls.

"Hermione!" I called out, running to catch up with her.

She turned around at the sound of her name and smiled- that radiant smile she has- when she saw it was me. Then something inside of her seemed to have won out as her smile disappeared. "Did you have an outburst in Fleur's class?" she asked me, anger laced in her voice.

"You're on a first-name-basis with her now?" I asked, skeptical but not really surprised. "What happened to the girl who used to call her 'Phlegm' with me?"

"Don't change the subject," she said heatedly. "Did you?"

I bit my lip. I didn't want to lie, but I knew she'd be angry that I yelled at her precious "Fleur."

"Too long," she said, turning around and beginning to walk away.

I grabbed her arm. "Yes. I did, okay? Is that what you want to hear?" I asked, spinning her to face me.

"No, that's not what I want to hear, and it's not okay."

"I didn't get a detention," I offered, hoping to pacify her.

"How is that possible? Fleur said she gave you one," she said, clearly confused.

"Well, she did. But I talked to McGonagall and-"

"You lied about the whole situation?" she supplied, her eyes darkening with anger. "You manipulative little…" she shook her head and sighed angrily.

"Oh, I didn't realize I was supposed to be nice and respectful of the evil French whore-bitch who is cheating on my brother by trying to get with the girl I'm in love with," I said sarcastically, not fully realizing what I ha said.

"What?" Hermione asked, surprise etched in her features.

My omission dawned on me. "I meant get with my best friend," I said, trying to cover up my moment of honesty.

"You said the girl you're in love with."

"I… Bugger. I have to… Do something."

I turned around and quickly rushed to the one place Hermione didn't have the password to as Head Girl: the Quidditch locker rooms.

What had I done? It was uncomfortable enough when we both knew it but it was unspoken. Now I'd gone and "spoken" it.

Damn Fleur! This was all her fault!


	4. Embarrassment Fueled Tirade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _No. No, no, no, no, no! I did_ not _just do that!_ my brain screamed, attempting to deny the truth for as long as possible.

_No. No, no, no, no, no! I did_ not _just do that!_ my brain screamed, attempting to deny the truth for as long as possible.

"Shit! Bugger! Damn! Bloody hell!" I panted as I ran into the Gryffindor quidditch locker rooms, away from Hermione and my slip of the tongue.

"Sweet bloody Merlin!" I yelled, punching Harry's locker suddenly.

"I… I _cannot_ believe I opened my bloody trap and told her! Way to go, Weasley! Real bloody smooth!" I kicked the trunk with the practice quidditch balls.

I found myself ducking to avoid being hit as the bludgers whizzed out, the snitch darting after.

"All you had to do was keep your bloody mouth shut! Now she probably thinks you're bloody mental!" I berated myself, kicking Ron's locker.

"Sweet Merlin!" I breathed out, my initial embarrassment-fueled tirade over. "My amazing angel Hermione probably thinks that I _am_ mental! I just confessed my love for her… That was _so_ not intended to come out until she did!

"Way to scare her off, Weasley. Good job. Why don't you just shove your bloody tongue down her bloody throat next time you see her in the bloody loo? Bloody hell!" I ranted, feeling my heart beating wildly beneath my breast.

My head swam with the image of Hermione's face as my declaration of love tumbled out of my mouth. I hadn't even meant to! I was just so damn angry about the whole situation with Phlegm. _Stupid, French whore._

She had just looked so shocked. Maybe even angry.

"Fuck," I breathed.

"How do I _fix_ this? I asked the dead, silent air of the locker room. The oppressive silence weighed heavily on my shoulders, mocking me.

I grabbed the broom out of the only locker left untouched after my tirade- my own- and strode outside where I promptly kicked off from the ground into the vast empty air of the quidditch pitch.

I breathed in deeply, searching for answers in the fresh air.

"That," I allowed myself to say aloud, "was not the face that reads, 'I love you, too.'"

I sighed, dejected, "You really made a mess of this one, Red."

I flew lazily around the stadium countless times before a figure on the ground caught my eye. Small at this distance, but…

"Hermione?" I hoped against all hope, my heart soaring as I dove to the ground, to the figure.

 _Maybe it wasn't such a mistake to admit my love to her, after all. Course… That meant busting all the lockers was a mistake…_

"Headmistress McGonagall requests a meeting," a scrawny, pinch-nosed, dirty-blonde first-year told me in a high-pitched, nasal tone. Hufflepuff according to her tie. She was entirely unfamiliar to me. Had I become so jaded?

I nodded my consent and followed her back to the castle, my broom still in hand-temporarily forgotten.

 _What in Merlin's beard?_ I wondered dully. _What could she want?_

"Scarlet bludger," I said to the large, stone gargoyle guarding the Headmistress' office before walking up the winding stairs and knocking twice.

"Enter, Miss Weasley," a grave voice answered.

In retrospect, that really should have been my first warning.

"Yes, Professor?" I asked, peering around the old, heavy oak door.

"Please, please. Sit down," McGonagall instructed. I complied and she began again. "Miss Weasley, I'm afraid I have most distressing news-"

"My family?" I interrupted, jumping up, immediately concerned. "Is everything okay? Is everyone safe? Mum? Dad? Bill? Char-?"

"No, no, dear girl," she stopped me, patting the air gently. "I apologize for worrying you. I guess I forget: You are your mother's daughter. No, everyone in your family is quite safe.

"No. My news deals with you in particular. And, one could argue, Bill. And Professor Delacour. And Hermione."

 _Busted._

"It seems, Miss Weasley, that you saw fit to exacerbate the marital problems of your brother and Fleur. You should be quite ashamed- one of my own Gryffindors!- In fact, if I'm not mistaken, you used my long-standing friendship and love for your family in order to undermine Professor Delacour and get out of rightfully assigned detentions- which you will serve, by the way, as planned. With Filch.

"Anyway, you worked the situation to 'win' a personal battle with Professor Delacour. It would appear that you owe both Professor Delacour and myself an apology."

"Yes, Professor. I'm sorry," I muttered, feeling that Phlegm would no doubt use this against me. Now I had an innumerable amount of detentions with Filch and had to apologize to that French git.

But Hermione… Her expression after my admitting my love for her was still lodged foremost in my mind.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" McGonagall continued.

I knew I should feel guilty. I knew I should be paying attention, but her voice just slipped into the background as images of Hermione and her shock flooded my mind. Until…

"I've half a mind to owl your mother!"

"What? No! Please, Professor?" I pleaded, coming out of my trance-like state.

"I'm afraid you leave me no choice. That seems to have been the only thing that has held your attention! At least have the decency to _act_ ashamed, Miss Weasley!"

 _An owl to mum? Bloody hell. Now I'm in for it._

The office fell silent as she glared at me, disappointment written in her eyes, until a series of raps at the door released me from this painful lesson in shame. I rose to leave, refusing to meet her gaze.

"You were not dismissed, Miss Weasley. Sit," McGonagall ordered harshly.

I fell back into the rich leather of the office chair.

"Enter," McGonagall bade.

My jaw dropped and my eyes grew wide as the door swung open, revealing none other than my bushy-haired goddess and the traitorous French bitch of a whore I am unlucky enough to call my sister-in-law.


	5. Between a Veela and an Old Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I would like to thank Sapphos-Daughter for all her help with this chapter. I would also like to give my sincere apologies to both Sapphos-Daughter and Stormytje for being away so long and not explaining myself. I'm sorry!

AN: I would like to thank Sapphos-Daughter for all her help with this chapter. I would also like to give my sincere apologies to both Sapphos-Daughter and Stormytje for being away so long and not explaining myself. I'm sorry!

* * *

I plopped back down into the chair as directed by McGonagall in shock as my gorgeous goddess followed the idiot veela that had joined my family tree into the office.

I stood back up, the shock of the two of them showing up having worn off. "No," I said simply. "No. I refuse to be in the same room with her. I won't. You know how much I love you, Hermione, but I refuse. I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. Add more detentions, if you must, but I cannot be in the same room as this whore of a woman."

"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor for insulting a professor. And, Miss Weasley, you will sit back down," McGonagall told me, glaring.

I faltered under her gaze slightly before continuing to walk defiantly towards the door. However, my plans for leaving were foiled as I suddenly found my limbs glued together as the floor sped up at me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the floor to hit me when I found myself back in the chair.

"Stay," McGonagall ordered. I saw Phlegm stifling her laughter.

"It amuses me zat you zink zat you can jus' say and do whatever you please, baby sister," Phlegm said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Enough," McGonagall declared. "I'm sure the two of you have endless side comments to make, but you are here for a reason. Hermione, whenever you're ready."

"Hermione? You called us here? I don't… Um… What I mean is.." I stumbled, not having planned ahead at all and just opening my big mouth.

"Spit eet out, _Ginerva_ ," Phlegm sighed, irritated.

"Don't call me that! Just shut up, you-" I started, infuriated.

"I said, 'Enough!'" McGonagall thundered. "Perhaps you'd better get on with it, dear. These two are like children!"

Hermoine turned her head and nodded at McGonagall. "Thank you very much, Professor. Do you see now what I've been dealing with lately?" she asked, seeming to have forgotten that we were still in the room.

"You have far more patience than I," McGonagall replied by way of answering, rubbing her temples as she sat back into her chair. She motioned for Hermione to continue.

"Yes well, your teacher was mine, too. And I hope to be a credit to her someday… If I ever see her again..." A sad despairing look briefly haunted my angel's face before she shook herself and looked directly at the two of us, glaring angrily. "If you would like to continue your fighting, then, by all means, leave. However, before you leave, I have something that I have to say," Hermione said, her steady voice a harsh contrast to her pale face. I heard her swallow deliberately and I wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her. "If the two of you do not stop your pointless bickering over me, I _will_ leave Hogwarts."

I could almost swear I hear McGonagall choke back a laugh and I knew the look of shock on Phlegm's face must have been mirrored on my own. _Hermione leave?_ I thought, panicking. _She can't. It's not possible._ "But… but…" I sputtered, not able to comprehend this piece of information. "Why?"

"I made a promise, Ginny. A promise to a certain someone that I fully intend on keeping… No matter what the cost might be," Hermione answered quietly as she gazed intently at me as though waiting for something.

Then it clicked. "Tammy!" I screeched, standing up, daring her to tell me I was wrong. "You're willing to ruin your future- _our_ future- for someone who is either dead or as good as? It's been almost two _years_ since she was captured by You-Know-Who!" I took a tentative step forward. "Hermione, don't you think it's time to let her go?"

I saw Hermione's beautiful features darken with rage and instantly knew I had gone too far. "No, I don't. I won't let her dream die, I _can't_."

"No!" I shook my head, not wanting her mad at me. "I didn't mean that you should let her dream die! I only meant that You-Know-Who rarely keeps hostages, so…" I trailed off, not wanting to repeat that Tammy was very likely dead by this point.

Hermione shook her head, as if she was refusing to believe. "She's not dead, she's still alive! He married her for her powers, Ginny."

I could feel my heart breaking for her. "Stop doing this to yourself, Hermione! We both know that he would have gotten what he needed from her or gotten so frustrated that he killed her. Stop torturing yourself!"

Hermione took a very deep breath before moving her lips but remaining silent. Then, "I've seen her, Ginny. Do you remember when I disappeared for three days and no one know where I went?"

I felt my heart constrict with fear. "You... You went to visit her? While she was with You-Know-Who? Hermione! You could have been killed! You're _Muggle-born_! You're lucky they didn't kill you on sight!"

Hermione continued as though I hadn't spoke. "Jake brought me to her at her request. According to what he told me, You-Know-Who allowed it as long as she swore never to run away again." Despite the warm temperature, Hermione shuddered.

"She asked you to visit her? At the home of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" I asked, incredulous. "And you _went_? Are you _aware_ of what is going on in the world, Hermione? Are you _aware_ of who you are? Let me remind you: You are the _Muggle-born_ best friend of ' _The Boy Who Lived._ ' You are the _embodiment_ of everything the Death Eaters are against! Do you have any idea of what could have happened? You could have been _killed_. As in, _dead_. Like Dumbledore. Like Sirius. Like Cedric. How could you just go and risk your life without telling anyone? What if they had killed you?" I felt tears sting my eyes but I continued. "What if you had never come back? What if-" My voice broke. "What if I never saw you again? Wha-" I couldn't finish the thought aloud. I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat.

Hermione shook her head. "I know. Tammy was as careful as she could be: You-Know-Who was out when I visited her." Hermione sighed and tears filled her eyes, "She asked about everyone, she missed me too."

I shook my head, unable to respond as the tears rolled down my cheeks. "I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I can't do this right now." I got out of the chair and started for the door again, praying McGonagall wouldn't stop me again.

"Ginny-" Hermione's pleading tone stopped me more effectively than any spell. "She needed me, too. Don't blame her for being lonely."

"You're absolutely right, Hermione!" I said scathingly as I wheeled around. "It's absolutely acceptable and understandable to invite your friend over to a place frequented by Death Eaters when she's a Muggle-born. Hey, next time you visit, why don't you bring Harry so you can both serve his head to You-Know-Who on a silver platter before his Death Eaters kill you? I'm sure you'll understand, though, if I don't want to tag along to watch the two of you make out before the Lestranges _kill_ you!"

Hermione shook her head, denying what I had said. "She is the Dark Lady, they couldn't have hurt me. And Jake and Professor Snape were right there to get me out again."

I scoffed and shook my head as the tears continued to fall. "Whatever. It's your life. If you want to play fast and loose with it, fine. Ignore the people that care about your safety. Ignore the people that love you. Ignore our fear and concern for you. I hope you'll be very happy as the Mistress of You-Know-Who's wife," I replied bitingly.

I knew I was being mean, but I just couldn't shake the thought that my angel had gone off into danger and possible death without telling anyone. I couldn't stop thinking that I could have lost her even before I had her.

Hermione paled and stormed past me and out the door, muttering darkly under her breath.

"May I be excused now, Professor?" I asked, tired of trying to hold in my tears. The floodgates that begged to be opened rivaled those of Moaning Myrtle.

Wide-eyed, McGonagall only nodded. And with that, I tore from the room.

I don't know how, but I made it to the peace of Hagrid's pumpkin patch without anyone seeing me. I collapsed against the make-shift fence in tears and I sincerely hoped that Hagrid wouldn't hear me.

As my own sobs diminshed, I was greeted by the sound of someone else's crying. I cannot deny that I am the sister of Fred and George. I can only assume that it is because of this that I found myself tip-toeing ever closer to the noise.

A light voice carried over the sobbing, "'Ermione... 'Ou vant to talk? I'll liztein, I vould like to hear more about the friends 'ou love so much."

Hermione? Hermione was crying? Because of me, no doubt. And the stupid whore was taking advantage of the situation and comforting her! I clenched my fists, seething.

I heard Hermione sniff, "Thank you, Fluer. They are very special to me, Fleur, but not for the reasons that Ginny thinks."

"Forget about Ginny, 'he's too wrapped up in 'er jealousy. I take it that they never got along?" I heard Fleur ask as my insides clenched. I am not wrapped up in anyone's jealousy, let alone my own! I am not jealous!

"No, not really," Hermione's voice responded. "They came from two different worlds. I think that Ginny blamed Tammy because she reminded me of something that I had forgotten since I came to Howarts."

"Vere you loverz?" I heard Fleur ask, echoing my own thoughts. My insides clenched again, but not with anger this time.

"No, but it wasn't for lack of trying on my part." I heard my beautiful angel say and I felt my heart break. I tired to leave, but I was frozen in place-stuck listening to Hermione tell Fleur all about Tammy and how she really felt. "I think that Tammy didn't feel it was right because of the fact that she was the oldest first year in Hogwarts. But we were- are- very, very close."

"Vat are zey like, zeez two?"

"They're very scarred. They didn't know about Hogwarts until they were sixteen and didn't really trust magic. It's one thing when you are a child, but I honestly think that those two were always adults after they found their family murdered. And living in the same house..." Hermione trailed off.

"Zat vould cause them to grow up before their time, yes. But vhy did you ally yourself with them?"

"Because I wasn't always an only child," Hermione answered softly.

I felt my eyes grow wide and my jaw drop. She never told me that! Why didn't she ever tell me?

"Vat!" Phlegm asked, sounding just as surprised as I felt.

"I don't talk about it, because after she died, it was just too painful. My parents chose to forget she existed, particually my mother," I heard Hermione's soft reply.

My poor angel! What she must have gone through! And all alone!

"Tell me," I heard the French bitch prod my poor Hermione. "You 'ave my word zat I von't tell anyvone, not even Bill."

"Don't," I breathed, not wanting Hermione to confide in Phlegm something she had never even mentioned in passing to me.

But she did. And when she did, I could feel the sadness in her voice. She spoke softly, as if remembering a forgotten dream. "Her name was Dove, but I always called her Angel. She was born too early, and her spine was messed up. Her brain wouldn't function right and she remained in a child-like state. She died two years before I came to Hogwarts. I loved her. I never got tired of reading to her or showing her over and over again how to dress."

I couldn't imagine my darling Hermione as anything but an only child. To picture the Hermione I've come to know teaching and reteaching a what I can only think of as a younger version of Hermione how to clothe herself? It boggled my mind!

"She wasn't like me. But my angel? She was a sweetheart. She trusted anybody and everybody, but I was her favorite. I can't count the number of times she tried to follow me shouting 'Minny, Minny, Wait for me!'. Of course, I always waited, which made me late everywhere. But to be honest, I didn't care..." I could easily picture Hermione smiling as she remembered and I so wished she were telling me instead of me overhearing because I so wanted to hold her hand.

"Minny? Was zat a nickname?" I heard the thick accent and wondered why stupid Phelgm kept interrupting. I just wanted to hear more about this sister of Hermione's and her past.

Hermione sniffed again, "No, that was the closest she could come to saying my name. She always tried very hard, but certain sounds were difficult for her. I told her just to call me 'Minny', but I would have never allowed _anyone_ else to call me that." I knew this was more than the truth. Hermione had never been big with nicknames. "Got into a lot of fights because of it too. Gave more than one split lip because of it. It was worth it to me."

Now that was something I could _not_ picture. Hermione fighting? I mean, I know she had given Draco a bloody nose. But fighting often? I suddenly felt that I actually knew very little about my bushy-haired goddess.

"Vat happened to her?" Phlegm asked softly.

"It was so stupid!" Hermione sobbed. "We'd had a fight after I came home from school. I was going to meet a friend at the neighborhood park and Angel wanted to go. I said that I didn't want to wait for her this time, hugged my mom and left... I swear I never heard her following me."

 _No!_ I thought. _She can't possibly be responsible even remotely for her sister's death. Hermione-_ my _Hermione- just isn't capable of something like that!_

The sound of leaves crunching told me that Hermione was on her feet. "It happened so fast! I'd barely crossed the street and all of a sudden I heard a scream and a crash. Angel had followed me but couldn't keep up, and she was hit head on by someone who was driving too fast." I let out a breath I had realized I had been holding. _She's not responsible. She's still the same girl I thought she was._ "They said she was killed instantly, her spine had snapped. The guy was caught, but it didn't change anything. My Angel was dead. Dead because I wouldn't wait for her."

 _My poor Hermione! The guilt she must be carrying! And to never talk about it?_ I stifled the urge to run from my hiding spot and embrace her.

"'Ermione... it vasn't your fault, it vas an accident. A 'orrible, 'orrible accident. You can't blame yourself..." And, for once, I agreed with Fleur. I only hoped Hermione would, too.

"I do blame myself, I should have waited for her! The last thing I ever said to her was 'You're too slow, you can't keep up!' I didn't even tell her I loved her, I never got the chance to apologize to her." I silently willed Fleur to tell my goddess that she was wrong and that Dove knew that she loved her.

"And zat iz vat really 'urts... Ze zings you never said," I heard Fleur reply softly.

"I know she loved me, and that I would have been forgiven. I've been in counselling for _years;_ I know all the lines. But she would've done that anyway. That was her nature;t didn't mean that I'd earned it..." Hermione responded. I wished desperately that I could make her _know_ that she didn't have to try to earn it. She earned forgiveness for her past just by being herself. By befriending and helping Tammy. By doing all she was doing for the war.

"And ze Twins? Do zey know?"

"Tammy knows. She was the first I'd ever told," I heard Hermione say. _Someone else she trusted far more than me_ , I thought bitterly. "She guessed at it, actually. If Jake knows, he's never said anything to me."

"You really love zem, don't you?" I knew the answer to Fleur's question even before Hermione spoke. She did. Far more than she would ever love me. Likely more than she's loved anyone since her sister.

"Yes, I do. After my angel died, I threw myself into my schoolwork more than before. I was determened to become a doctor and find a cure. Slowly, I started to forget about my Angel. My parents seemed bent on forgetting her. I only have one picture of her. It goes wherever I go, and _no one_ touches it. Coming to Hogwarts only helped, it was so different, that you could forget that."

"And Tammy reminded you?"

And the reason Hermione refused to forget Tammy was instantly clear. She was Hermione's new "Angel." That was why she was always so upset if I said something about Tammy.

I can only imagine that Hermione had nodded as she explained, "Seeing her for the first time? It felt like somebody had punched me and ripped my heart from my chest."

"Are you sure you aren't...?" Phlegm began tentatively. I can only imagine what Fleur was alluding to, but Hermione must have known.

"No. I know my Angel is dead. But seeing Tammy... It reminded me that magic isn't everything, it's not even..." Hermione stopped.

 _Not even what?_ I screamed silently.

"Not even vat?" Fleur echoed my thoughts.

"It's not even the tip of the iceburg. She made me see that living only in one world is pointless and stupid besides. It's worse than... It's like saying that magic is the most important thing in the world, and if you don't have it, you are second class." Hermione finally answered.

 _How dare she?_ I seethed. _That is not at_ all _what anyone in my family believes. How dare she just lump us together with Death Eaters like that! That's the way_ they _think! Not decent wizarding people!_

"'Arry lived as a muggle for eleven years," Fleur said. And I wondered what in the name of Merlin's pants she was getting at.

"Harry has never had to straddle both worlds at the same time, he can fully embrace magic if he chooses. Tammy isn't only thinking of herself, she's thinking about the wizarding world as a whole," Hermione answered. _Is she insulting Harry now as well? He has risked his life for her and the entire world! Wizarding and Muggle!_

"I don't understand 'Ermione," Fleur admitted. I wondered dully when I stopped thinking of her as 'that stupid French whore' or 'Phlegm.' When she comforted Hermione, I suppose.

Hermione sighed, "What do we call people who don't have magic?"

"Muggles," she answered. _And that's nothing compared to what some of them call us!_ I thought.

"And how is that any different from being called a Mudblood?" Hermione asked.

 _Muggle doesn't mean 'dirty blood,'_ I thought, answering Hermione.

Fluer, however, was silent at first. "I see... Odd... Yes, I zink can see 'ow one might zink zat... From ze outside looking in."

 _No!_ I thought desperately. _It's not the same! How does she think that Muggle and Mudblood are the same? Why is she so jaded?_

"She might or might not be right, but it's still worth considering. I think it took someone who thinks totally different from the way we are taught, to really see the bigger picture," my darling angel pointed out.

I, for one, could even help but disagree. It wasn't just because I was raised differently, but because I of my _ethics_. By that logic, a Muggle calling me a wizard would have to be the same as a Muggle calling me a freak. I couldn't _help_ but disagree.

"And zat might be vat's keeping 'er alive," Fleur mused.

I could practically hear Hermione shudder, "I agree. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seems to be amused by her, amused enough that he hasn't given her any potions or _anything_. He treats her like a suitor almost. It scared the crap out of me."

 _Like a suitor? Yes, I suppose that would frighten you, Hermione,_ I thought, bitter once more.

"She iz strong, 'Ermione. If she is everything you say she iz, and she 'az 'er brother... Zey _vill_ make it zrough zis," Fluer soothed. "Trust in zem ze vay zey trust in you 'Ermione."

The bell tolled, announcing dinner to any not around a clock.

"Thank you, Fleur. For listening and not fighting about it. I've missed that since Tammy's been gone."" I felt a pang of guilt as Hermione said this as I realized all I had thought. I would have argued about everything.

I hid as Hermione hurried by my hiding spot and back up to the castle. I waited in my hiding spot, waiting for Fleur to hurry back to the castle with Hermione. I was very surprised when I heard her continue to speak.

"Stay strong, Tammy, and keep giving our 'Ermione 'ope. She still needs you, the zister she never zought she'd find again."

I trudged back up to the castle, careful to keep out of sight of the pair as a disheartening thought came to mind. _Maybe Fleur_ is _better for my precious Hermione. I clearly would have handled that situation all wrong._


End file.
